


Don't Drive Faster

by Lady_WhiteHaven



Category: Stephanie Plum - Janet Evanovich
Genre: F/M, Guardian Angels, post book 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_WhiteHaven/pseuds/Lady_WhiteHaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't drive faster than your guardian angel can fly.</p><p>Reposted and edited from ff.n</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A collaboration by Lady Whitehaven and Suzanne of Dragons Breath
> 
> Re posting and editing from ff.n. I'm adding chapters as I have time to edit them. It was originally started in 2005, and we're doing our best to finish it now.

Did you ever have one of those days where you just can't stay out of trouble? Welcome to my life. My name is Sera, I'm a twelfth rank guardian angel, and I have the dubious pleasure of shepherding one Stephanie Plum through life. I was only fourth rank when I started, but advancement has been quick thanks to some of her escapades. I could have done without the honor.

Steph's childhood adventures weren't that bad, though I wish she hadn't jumped off the roof. Have you any idea how difficult it is to change the angle of descent to keep a kid from breaking her neck?

This bounty hunting gig has given me quite a workout. I haven't been pushed so hard since I had to arrange for her to walk in on The Dick screwing The Skank. The woman attracts psychos like Orlando Bloom attracts fangirls.

Which leads me to now. Stephanie is currently locked –with her own handcuffs, no less- to a chain link fence outside of a schoolyard, enriching the students' vocabulary. It would be an easy matter to unlock the cuffs, except that the keys are in her handbag. Which is at least a foot out of her reach. She's enough to drive an angel to drink.

At least this is an easy enough problem to solve. There's a breeze today, so I use it to mask the fact that I kicked her bag over. Now it's close enough that she can hook the strap with her foot. At least she notices this on her own. It's possible for a guardian angel to give a mental nudge to her charge, but it is so much easier when we don't have to.

Moments later, she has the cuffs unlocked and is once again chasing her skip, but it's a lost cause. He took advantage of her brief incarceration to drive off.

I realize that she found doing computer work for Manoso boring, but a part of me wishes she hadn't gone back to skip chasing for Vinnie after they caught Stiva. I may have gotten tired of reminding Steph that she was with Morelli and shouldn't flirt with Manoso, but she got shot at less. As the individual responsible for keeping her from being hit by those bullets, I really should have a say in the decision.

And speaking of the men in her life, I wish she would just pick one, already. At this point, I don't care which one it is! I'm tired of the glares their angels keep giving me. It's not my fault she can't make up her mind! I have enough to do, just keeping her alive!

I relax as she gets into Big Blue. Steph and company joke that this car is indestructible, and she's not far wrong. Sandor already had a few protections on it, and when I saw the way Steph's car luck was running, I traded in a few favors to make the car the equivalent of a mobile bomb shelter. (Pun not intended).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Oops. We forgot this one. We don't own them. If we did, then our money, souls, lives, and firstborn children wouldn't belong to our college. All the characters will be returned, even Ranger. Maybe.

Though I do wish Steph would stick to the Buick because of the protection on the thing, I like the Duc. Normally I climb into (or onto) the car with her, which has the added advantage of keeping her skips from trying anything. With the Duc, I fly. Some angels are unfortunate enough to be earthbound, but thanks to Steph's desire to fly, I get wings. The Powers That Be know I need them! There are very few things more fun than zooming above a highway at 65 mph, dodging streetlights, signs, and power lines.

Even though she's not working for Manoso full time anymore, he told her to keep the bike. Something about her record with his cars and the fact that the bike might survive her. It's been five months, and so far it has survived, though some of that is probably because she doesn't drive it when she has to pick up skips.

This afternoon she's just trying to track down a skip named Jacob Bowman, a forty-something construction worker who robbed a liquor store.

We arrive at the site rather quickly, not that there was a flagrant breech of the posted speed limit, but have I mentioned that I fly quite fast when necessary?

The foreman was a huge muscular man, running slightly to fat, in short, pretty much what a person would expect. His guardian angel, on the other hand, looked about ten years younger and went three shades whiter when he saw me. Steph has something of a reputation among the angels in the area. They might be slightly jealous of my quick advancement, but not so much that they want Steph within a three mile radius of their charge.

A few whispers in his charge's ear results in the foreman thrusting a hardhat in to Steph's hands, and insisting that she wear it at all times on the site.

Steph wants to refuse, but after a not-so-metaphorical kick in the ass on my part, she puts it on with only a token protest. Basic safety assured, I settle in to watch the show.

"Does he have any friends who might be hiding him?" Steph asks.

The foreman shrugs. What is it with Steph and reticent males? "I told you before, he mostly keeps to himself."

"Do you mind if I talk to some of his coworkers? One of them might have an idea of where he is."

Steph, wandering around a construction site. On her own. No, NO, NO, NO, NO!

"Sure." I glare at the foreman's angel, who responds with an Italian hand gesture of which Steph is rather fond. If I wasn't so busy protecting her, I'd kick his ass. Maybe the foreman wants to ride in one of Steph's cars.

I really don't like construction sites. In the fifty yard walk, I have to steer her out of the way of several falling objects, a couple of tripping hazards, and one large pit.

Steph was halfway through questioning yet another big, brawny, smelly man, with an equally big, brawny smelly angel, when I froze. Guardian angels are not generally prescient, but when you have spent as much time as I have around Stephanie Plum as I have, you start to get a feel for certain things. Like right now. Steph is out of sight of the bike. SHIT! The bike!

A rather panicked mental nudge sends Steph sprinting back towards the parking lot. It was a rather easier trip this time; sometimes I think other angels deliberately steer stuff in to Steph's path just to make me sweat.

Oh Shit.

Well, at least we found Bowman. Unfortunately, he is currently sitting in the cab of a cement truck. And we won't be using the bike to chase him down. You know how some Hard Rock Cafés have the back end of a car mounted on to the wall so it looks like it's actually driving into a wall? Yeah.

Bowman dumped a good bit of cement on to the back end of the Ducati. The handle bars and front end are still visible. It's not going anywhere anytime soon.

I just stand there and seethe. Steph isn't so calm.

"You fucking asshole!" She screeches and runs for Bowman. As if I don't have enough problems! How the hell am I supposed to keep her safe if she keeps pulling stunts like this?

Bowman took one look at Steph, and his angel at me, and they simultaneously come to the one solution that would let them both survive. Bowman hits the gas and takes off down the street, still trailing cement.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thanks to all who reviewed. We appreciate it. Second, be warned. This chapter is NOT Cupcake friendly.

I've been in this guardian angel gig for a couple of centuries now. For most of the women I've watched, the most dangerous thing I've had to worry about has been childbirth. After all, dangerous situations are how an angel advances in rank, and dangerous situations were few and far between for women until recently. Then I got assigned to Stephanie Plum, and I thought it would be more of the same. Sweet little girl, born to two normal parents in a typical Burg household, with a well-behaved older sister, who was expected to become a typical Burg housewife. Not a challenge, I thought.

Okay, so her childhood was filled with more than the normal amount of scrapes. Like the dive she took off of the roof. And with Morelli in the garage. Well, anything involving Morelli- although I did enjoy the Buick incident. Seeing Morelli's angel, Elmo, splattered flat on the windshield, cursing me out was priceless. He shouldn't have distracted me during the Tasty Pastry incident. Payback's a bitch, ain't it?

I thought she was past that. She went to college, got married and settled in to a typical Burg life. Even after the divorce, she had a respectable job, an apartment, and a hamster. Then the shit hit the fan.

I wasn't trained to be the angel of a bounty hunter, but I learned damn quick. I wanted excitement, but not in the form of homicidal stalkers, and not in the form of car destruction.

I've actually gotten used to cars dying. It's not fun, but it's better than dealing with the fallout. Used car salesmen's angels get this damn smug look.

Which leads to now. Half the Trenton PD is currently standing around the pile of cement and metal that used to be a functioning motorcycle. Damn it! I liked the bike.

Carl Costanza walked up to us, a huge grin on his face. "Shit, Steph. Next time let us know when you're gong to be near a construction site. I don't think anyone bet that the Duc would get cemented."

Steph turned bright red, though I'm not sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. Fortunately, it's not my job to save her from this type of situation.

"It's not my fault!" Steph exclaimed.

Carl opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes refocused on something over Steph's shoulder, and he shut his mouth with an audible snap. Damn. Now what do I have to deal with? I turned to look. Double damn. Morelli. And Elmo. They're both pissed.

"Sera." Elmo's voice sounds remarkably like Morelli's, suppressed rage and all.

I just arched an eyebrow.

"Why the hell aren't you keeping a better eye on your charge?"

Oh no, he didn't. I can't speak. With that one sentence, he managed to cut the last shred of my already taxed patience. He took advantage of my silence to continue.

"How many cars has she blown up? Can't you even keep your eye on one substandard bounty hunter? And why are you encouraging her? You are just taking advantage of her profession to advance yourself."

The small part of my brain that wasn't consumed with rage noted that Steph was receiving a similar lecture from Morelli.

Apparently we've been together too long, because we're beginning to think alike. Morelli and Elmo hit the ground at the same time, clutching a rather sensitive portion of their respective anatomies. I didn't realize an angel could turn that color. Or make those noises.

I'm not sure how long I stood there just fuming, but I calmed when I felt another angel pop in behind me. I turned. Alejandro. That means Ranger is- just approaching Steph. I relaxed slightly. This had the potential to be a good show.

Alejandro walked towards me. He took one look at the figure writhing on the ground and put his arm around my shoulder, shaking his head slightly. "Sere."

Alejandro is a lot like his charge, both in looks and personality. Fortunately, he doesn't piss me off nearly as much as Elmo does. I think it has something to do with the fact that I didn't meet him until I started to advance quickly through the ranks, whereas I have known Elmo since Steph and Morelli were kids. He just can't get used to the idea that I outrank him now.

We turned to watch the show.

By this time, Ranger had just reached Steph. He placed a hand on the back of her neck, causing Steph to whirl around to face him. He took a step back. "Easy, Babe."

He turned her away from Morelli to face the pile of cement and raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Babe." He steered her away from the crowd towards his car.

She went on to explain exactly what had happened, sounding more and more upset as she went along. By the end of the tale, she was nearly in hysterics.

I looked back at Morelli, who had finally managed to get to his knees, hands still on his crotch. "Off to earn another car from Manoso, Babe?" His tone left no doubt to anyone just what he thought she would do to earn it.

Beside me, Alejandro stiffened, and Steph turned away from Ranger's car and glared. Every observer could tell that if he was within her reach, Morelli would be on the receiving end of another boot to his balls.

"Fuck you, Morelli!" Steph spat out, and got in to Ranger's car.


	4. Chapter 4

"I wonder if either of them needs a retrieval operation."

Alejandro's remark managed to jar me from my plans to remove certain body parts from certain guardian angels. I couldn't stifle the snicker. "I hope so," I said, grinning evilly.

Alejandro shook his head. "I'm glad it's not me you're mad at, Sere."

I snorted, coming completely out of my rage. It's a damn good thing Steph and I are with Alejandro and Ranger. I hadn't been paying attention to my surroundings. Any random loony or psycho could have snuck up on me in that state. "Constant vigilance" is the watch phrase for any guardian angel, especially any that get within a half mile of Steph, and that goes double for her own guardian.

"Sorry," I muttered. "That asshole just gets on my nerves."

Alejandro shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "Understandable."

Ranger interrupted us from the front seat, not that he knew he was doing it of course. "Where to, Babe?"

Steph frowned, and I could almost follow the thoughts as they raced through her mind. Alternative 1: her apartment. Rex was there, and no one would lecture her, and maybe she could convince Ranger to make sure that there weren't any psychos waiting for her. On the other hand, no car and it was unlikely that the food fairy had visited her to fill her empty refrigerator.

Alternative 2: Ranger's apartment. It had Ranger. And Ella. And Ella's cooking, but Steph doesn't have the guts to ask.

Alternative 3: Her parents' house. She would get lectured. Grandma Mazur's there. Her sister's family would be there. It's dinner time. The answer is inevitable.

"My parents'." Ranger arched an eyebrow. "By now, my mom has heard about me and Morelli. I need to get over there and do damage control before she starts ironing the toilet paper."

"Babe," Ranger said, and pointed the car towards the Burg.

Steph groaned and sat back in her seat. "My mother is going to kill me."

We finished the ride in silence, though for different reasons. Ranger was in his driving zone, Steph and I were fuming and plotting doom, and Alejandro was wisely keeping out of the line of fire.

Ranger pulled the car to a smooth stop in front of the Plum house. Steph started to get out of the car, and Ranger stopped her with a hand on her thigh. "Proud of you, Babe."

Steph got out of the car and stood there stunned as he pulled away. With a small shrug, she turned towards the house.

Her mother and grandmother were waiting at the door, per usual. Her grandmother was obviously happy, and her mother anything but. And the angels were worse.

Abrianna is Steph's mom's guardian angel, and like most, she reminds me a lot of her charge. She is prim, proper, and pure Burg. She is very good at the guardian duties that fall within her realm of experience, like dealing with husbands and children, but she's not very flexible. And she doesn't like me at all. While most guardian angels like the guardian of their charge's children because they keep them out of most trouble and keep them alive and well, Abrianna blames me for every single scrape Steph has gotten into. Like it's my fault Steph does what she wants, when she wants. It's all I can do to keep her alive in the process.

Mabyn, Grandma Mazur's guardian, on the other hand is currently dressed as a Vegas showgirl. Guardian angels may be immortal, but we tend to resemble our charges, so while Mabyn doesn't look quite as old as Grandma Mazur, she doesn't look young, either. I did NOT need to see that much of her. Crazy wardrobe aside, I like the woman. She usually takes my side.

"I heard you kicked Elmo in the nuts!" Mabyn said cheerfully, as Grandma Mazur congratulated Steph for doing the same to Morelli. The guardian angel grapevine rivals the human grapevine for speed.

"Stephanie Belinda Plum!" Ouch, all three names. "What were you thinking, kicking Joseph? How are you going to get anyone to marry you if you kick your boyfriend there?"

I tuned out the rest of the rant. I've heard it, or similar ones, too many times. Unfortunately, this meant that Abrianna started in on me.

"Sera, how could you let her do this? If you were a halfway decent guardian you'd be encouraging your charge to marry the Morelli boy. Elmo is such a nice angel…"

This is the second time in thirty minutes that I have been called an incompetent guardian angel. The first time resulted in Elmo's balls being introduced to his throat. Unfortunately, I can't do the same to Abrianna, as much as she asks for it. That doesn't mean I'll put up with this shit though. She's not my mother.

"Shut up, Abrianna. You do not dictate what is best for my charge. Steph tried the whole Burg wife bit. Been there, done that, not going back. Morelli just accused her of being a whore; why the hell would she put up with that?"

"Well, what else would he think, what with her going off with that bounty hunter?"

I didn't bother to answer. That woman will twist everything into her own skewed version of reality. Steph and I pushed past our respective tormentors and entered the house.

Steph thinks her family is crazy. She only has to deal with half of it. Mary Alice may want to be a horse, but Filipina has a horse. It has a white coat, blue eyes, and answers to Sayvil. Don't ask.

Mrs. Plum ushers the humans into the dining room, and the rest of us retreat to the living room. It's not as crowded, and—despite Grandma Mazur—they aren't in much danger at the dinner table.

"Is it true?" Val's angel, Maia, asked. "Did Steph really knee Morelli?"

I want to scream. She already knows the answer; she had to have been listening to the argument in the doorway. After all her charge has been doing—a certain foray as a lesbian and an unplanned pregnancy spring to mind—Maia has no room to talk. "It's no more than Val should have done to Steve." Have I mentioned before that we don't exactly get along?

"It's not like you handled Steph's marriage any better."

"I managed to end it before The Dick ran off with the babysitter and the savings. And was running off to Florida the best way to get Val married off again?"

Verence winced. He hadn't exactly tried to stop them. In fact, he was instrumental in keeping Maia from interfering. It's only because guardian angels can Pop in next to their charges that she wasn't left behind. She's still giving him hell for it. I feel sorry for him. He shouldn't have to put up with Maia just because his charge is marrying Val.

"Personally, I think kneeing Morelli is the best thing she could have done," Mabyn interjected. "After all, didn't that bounty hunter with the nice package bring her over here? And his guardian ain't bad looking either."

I groaned. Sometimes we tend to take after our charges a bit too much. "Why me?" I asked myself quietly.

"Sayvil says the answer is 42." Filipina said.

We just looked at her. We aren't sure if Sayvil actually talks to Filipina, or if Filipina just attributes certain remarks to her. We also aren't certain we want to know.

It was silent for a while. We had no idea how to answer that. We were saved from answering by Steph's voice from the other room.

"You want me to WHAT!"

This can't be good.


	5. Chapter 5

I was right.

It is the Wednesday after the Duc was destroyed, and I am currently perched up in the drop down ceiling tiles of the Trenton Elementary School cafeteria, and The Powers That Be couldn't force me to go down there.

Steph is currently giving a talk to Mary Alice's Girl Scout troop about being a woman in a male dominated profession.

Val "volunteered" Steph, without Steph's prior knowledge, and got Steph to agree under threat of no dessert- Val enlisted Mrs. Plum for help with this one.

Steph didn't think it would be that bad. Hope springs eternal. The girls did hang on to her every word, mostly to hear about the explosions. I think about half of them are contemplating a career in bond enforcement. I also think about 2/3s of their angels are planning my death. I think I'll stay up here.

At least I'm not being given the elementary school third degree.

"Miss Plum, did you really blow up the funeral home?"

"It wasn't my fault!" I could almost hear the gears turning as Steph tried to figure out an answer that a) they would understand and b) wouldn't cause their mothers to hunt her down. Fortunately, she was saved by their short attention spans.

"Miss Plum, do you have a boyfriend?"

Not that that was any better.

"No."

"But my mommy says she saw you kissing some black man."

Steph just turned red. I'm not sure if she is embarrassed, peeved, or contemplating homicide. All three are equally likely.

The leaders cut off the question and answer period. "Okay girls, it's time for crafts!" I guess their maternal instincts finally overcame their desire for more gossip. "Now thank Miss Plum for coming."

Twelve voices chorused "Thank you, Miss Plum," in the way only school children can.

Trina Zambowski, one of the leaders, started thanking Steph for talking to the girls and told her that she was welcome to stay.

Steph obviously wanted out of there as fast as Big Blue's V8 would go, but there were two large buckets of worms and dirt on a back table. She'll stay.

Steph wandered over to the crafts table, ostensibly to help, but in reality, to take her attention off the snack. She hadn't had dirt since she was kicked out of the Girl Scouts in third grade.

The girls were decorating flower pots for their mothers, and someone had the rather foolish idea that glitter would look pretty on them.

Idiot.

Predictably, one of the girls soon whined, "She got glitter on my flowerpot, and I didn't want it there!"

"Nichole, apologize to Jane."

"Sorry." I didn't realize such a little kid could sound so insincere. While the apology satisfied the leader, it did nothing to mollify Jane. She should be retaliating in 5, 4, 3, 2… and there goes a handful of glitter. And another. Within moments, a full scale glitter war had broken out.

Fun. Maybe I'll come down out of here after all. I'm not on clean-up duty.

Maybe Girl Scouts isn't so bad after all. Glitter is flying everywhere, despite the leaders' attempts to stop the barrage. The fight is every girl for herself, but the angels are split. Half, including the leaders' angels, are trying to stop the fight, while the other half, myself included, are trying to make sure that glitter gets everywhere. I feel like I'm in a snow globe.

There is also a third group, consisting entirely of Filipina and Sayvil. I'm not sure what they're trying to accomplish, but it involves galloping full tilt around, under, and occasionally over chairs, tables, and people.

One of the leaders tries flickering the lights to get the girls' attention, but it doesn't quite work as she planned. One of the girls yells, "Disco!" Not entirely accurate, but still fun.

The other leader, Trina, is much more creative. "If everybody doesn't stop right now, nobody gets snack." The silence that followed was deafening.

Within minutes, the room was sparkling clean. Meaning that despite many efforts to clean it, it still sparkled. The custodians are not going to be happy about this.

The parents start to arrive as the girls sit down to eat their worms, dirt, and glitter. The looks on their faces are priceless. I get the distinct impression that many of the girls are going to be hosed down before they are permitted in the house.

Now would be a good time to escape, and Steph obviously agrees with me. She grabs Mary Alice and drags her towards Big Blue.

Uh oh. I guess no one informed Morelli that he and Steph are in their off again stage, because he is leaning against the drivers side door of the car.

"What the fu-" She darts a look at Mary Alice, "-udge are you doing here, Joe?"

He pushed off the door. "Can't a guy check up on his girlfriend?" His smug grin was matched only by Elmo's. And, while Joe is Steph's responsibility, I can do something about Elmo's grin.

FWHOOM! I shake out my wings, "accidentally" covering Elmo in glitter. "Oops. So sorry, Elmo, my wings itched."

Elmo didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He was somewhat less than amused. Filipina, on the other hand, was laughing her ass off. Hell, even the horse was laughing.

"I'm glad to see you doing something...maternal for a change, Cupcake."

"Up yours, Morelli!" Steph shoves Morelli out of the way, getting glitter on him as well, though not as much as Elmo. If I have my way, they will be in their off again stage permanently. I hope he's going to the cop shop.


	6. Chapter 6

I've always wondered how that man could pack so many meanings into one word. It's just four letters, but it can mean anything from "get out of bed, you're going running," to "There goes another car," to "You look sexy."

This time, the "Babe" clearly means "what the hell have you been rolling in?" We're just back from Girl Scouts and Val's rant, still covered in glitter. Ranger and Alejandro are sitting inside the apartment. At least I recognize Alejandro's aura through the door, so I'm not surprised when we walk into the apartment.

Steph, on the other hand, jumps almost a foot, showering the carpet with glitter. She just shoots Ranger a death glare. This is a sure sign she's pissed; normally she lives in terror of being sent to a third world country.

"Don't ask. I'm taking a shower." She continues to the bedroom, leaving a trail of glitter in her wake.

"Need some help, Babe?" The only reply is the slam of a bedroom door. Ranger just raises an eyebrow.

Alejandro walks over to me. "Shit, Sera, what have you been up to? I thought you just had that Girl Scout thing today?"

"We were at that Girl Scout meeting."

"I take it that it was as bad as you thought it would be?"

"Shit, no! Do you have any idea how much fun a glitter war is? And I got to cover Elmo with it after!"

Alejandro burst out laughing. "How the hell did you manage that?"

"He and Morelli were waiting for us when we left the meeting. Apparently Joe doesn't think a knee to the balls constitutes a break up.

"Does it? Steph's always gone back to him before."

I'm very close to introducing him to the concept, personally and painfully, but I realize that he does have a point, as much as I hate to admit it. My laughter fades. "Powers That Be know. I don't think she'll go back to him, but I didn't think she would last time, either."

He snorts. "Whatever you say, Sere."

"Besides, if he was going to the station directly from the school, that might drive another wedge between them."

"Do tell?"

"He's rather sparkly right now."

"Is there anyone who didn't end up covered in that crap?"

"Nope. And you and Ranger should probably brush off before you leave."

He looks down at himself. "Shit."

"It's not that bad. Val made Mary Alice hose off in the yard-uniform, shoes, and all- before she was allowed in the house. She said something about not contaminating her house."

"You're kidding."

"Not a bit. And it won't even help. Filipina _hates_ to get wet. She managed to avoid the spray, despite Maia's best efforts.

"Oh." We hear the blow dryer click on in the next room.

"Imagine June Cleaver, rolling pin in hand, chasing after a valkyrie on a white horse. Sayvil alone had enough glitter in her mane and tail to coat the house."

Steph chooses that moment to come back into the room and plops down on the couch next to Ranger.

"That bad, Babe?"

"Have you any idea how annoying a group of Girl Scouts can be? I've spent the last couple of hours answering questions like 'do you have a boyfriend?' 'why aren't you married' and 'my mom saw you kissing some black ma-'" She turns red. Somehow, I don't think Steph meant to say that.

Ranger's only reply is a wolf grin. He hands her a folder. "Got a job for you, Babe."

Steph opens the folder. I'm at the wrong angle to read it over her shoulder. Damn.

"It's the usual drill?" She asks, "Short skirt, FMP's, lots of cleavage?"

Ranger grins again. Why can't he speak like a normal person?

"Babe." This 'Babe' evidently means "Hell, yeah!"

I can see Steph mentally going through her wardrobe, a slight smile on her face. I _hate_ these things. This is one of those times I wish she realized just what she was putting me though. She's not the only one who has to dress up. The skips might be dumb, but their guardians aren't. If Steph's going in all slutted up, and I still look like my normal kick-ass self, they'll realize something is up.

I _really_ hate these things.

Ranger gets up to go. He's not one for small talk. He stops by the door and pulls Steph into a kiss. That's one way to short-circuit her mental processes. He pushes something into her hand. "You might need this."

He's out the door before she regroups enough to look. It's a car key.


	7. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude from the point of view of Ella's guardian angel

This isn't the toughest assignment ever; there aren't a lot of opportunities for advancement in following Ella around the kitchen. Three are also plenty of annoyances, like Ella being told that she had to stop putting out sweets because the Rangeman crew started gaining weight. And playing mother hen to a bunch of macho ex-military types isn't especially easy when they won't admit they need one. But there are some things that make it worth it.

Since the ban on junk food, Ella has gotten more…creative…in the lunches she creates. While she'd never actually disobey Ranger, she has no problem working around him. Some of her meals can be very close to junk food without quite crossing the line. And Ranger wonders why the weight problem hasn't entirely been resolved.

Today, we're in the kitchen just in time to hear a sudden hush come over the control room. While it's never exactly noisy at any time, there is always the general background chatter present in any office. Not to mention the fact that as a guardian angel, my senses are better than a normal human's. Today, however, I think even the computers stopped humming.

Curious, a subtle nudge in Ella's direction sends her, and by extension me, out to investigate. This is bound to be good. The last time it got this quiet, Ranger scrambled the gun range cameras while giving Stephanie Plum "private lessons." This has to be interesting.

While Ranger is again the cause of the silence, it doesn't seem to involve Stephanie. It's all everyone can do to keep from laughing. No one is stupid- or suicidal- enough to antagonize Ranger like that.

He's wearing his blank face as he gets reports from the guys on duty, almost daring someone to comment. No one does.

He's also wearing quite a bit of glitter.

Ella bursts into giggles, and I'm not far behind. We're probably the only people who could do so and survive.

Alejandro is taking this much more calmly. He's probably not far from laughter himself. He has an appreciable sense of humor, which is more than can be said of Ranger.

A curt gesture summons Tank into a nearby office. I tag along out of morbid curiosity.

"Getting in touch with your feminine side, Boss?" Tank asks as soon as the door closes.

Ranger glares. "Payback's a bitch. Is everything on for tonight?"

"All set. You ready to wire Bombshell? Don't get so involved you forget the sound's on."

Tank must have a death wish. I think Titus is ready to kill Tank himself. Ranger is not a safe person to antagonize.

I ignore them in favor of talking to Alejandro in hopes of finding out the reason for the glitter. Titus is too busy mentally kicking Tank to be of any use.

"Hey, Kitchen Fairy."

Why can no one remember my name? "Where did the glitter come from?"

"Sera." That explains it. That angel can get into almost as much trouble as her charge.

"Stephanie stopped by?" I hadn't heard anything, and I usually do. The way to ensure loyalty is to keep these boys fed.

"This happened last night when we stopped by her place to recruit her for tonight's distraction."

"You're both still this glittery from yesterday!"

"He's already had several showers. You might want to remind Ella to get more shower gel."


	8. Chapter 8

I hate these jobs.

Ranger is busy copping a feel on Steph, under the pretense of wiring her for sound. She doesn't seem to mind. He's still glittery from yesterday, but Steph is smart enough not to mention it.

Alejandro is currently staying far away from me. I've made my opinion of these things clear, and Alejandro values his life. And his balls.

Ranger casts a significant look at Steph's…assets. "What?" she asks. "They're Nerf balls." She's very adept at Ranger non-speak.

"Babe."

Steph is dressed to kill in a red dress that masquerades as a handkerchief in its spare time. She picked it up the last time that she and Mary Lou were at Macy's, and given the current state of her love life, this distraction may be the only chance she gets to wear it for a while. Three inch FMPs and extra mascara complete her outfit.

My dress is almost identical to Steph's, but it covers a bit more. I actually don't mind it so much, but a bar full of horny, disgusting men is the last place I want to wear it.

Ranger finally steps back, (how long does it take to place a mic anyway?) and Steph's mind snaps back into focus. Ranger turns to open the door for her, and she surreptitiously checks for drool.

This is gonna be fun.

*****

As we pull up in front of the bar, the name itself fills me with foreboding, as it indicates the status of the patrons who frequent it. Broken Arms is more than its name. It's also what happens to the unwise visitor.

I've got a bad feeling about this, and I don't need my powers to tell me that.

Saying every head turned as we walk in sounds a bit cliché, but it doesn't fall far from the truth. The Macy's hooker dress suddenly seems too high class for this dive, and I devoutly wish my hearing wasn't so good as to pick up the obscene comments many patrons are making.

Dodging hands, we work our way to the bar, where the skip luckily has an open seat beside him.

Rafe Cardones is a real winner- in the fall off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down contest. This guy was arrested for armed robbery and multiple counts of assault and battery. The reason we're going after him is because he's always armed and usually surrounded by fellow gang-bangers. I have no idea how this guy made bail.

He leers rudely. "Can I buy you a drink?" he manages to slur. Unoriginal, but I suppose it's better than "you're hot; let's fuck."

Somehow, Steph manages to keep from throwing up and returns his interest. "Sure, what are you drinking?"

"Captain Morgan."

I can feel Steph considering getting one herself, and give her a mental kick. No more hard liquor for Steph on these jobs. Ever. I learned MY lesson after the first time. Steph, however, still requires the occasional reminder.

She orders beer in a bottle. Smart girl. I don't trust the glasses either.

I tune out their conversation- my stomach isn't that strong. I leave them just enough of my attention to alert me when something goes wrong, and turn to the rest of the bar.

Unfortunately, the Guardians in this place are just as creepy as the patrons. That's a common misconception about Guardian Angels. While many of us are moral and clean and sparkling (damn glitter!) and try to steer our charges along that path, others, well….aren't.

And this place seems to be full of the second type.

I'm kind of surprised that Cardones' angel is leaving me alone, but then he appears to be drinking as heavily as his charge.

As I'm an obviously unclaimed female, a Guardian reeking of beer, BO, piss, and smoke approaches me. Lovely.

"Hey angel, the word of the day is 'legs.' Let's go back to my place and spread the word."

Ew. I didn't think people actually use those lines. I wrinkle my nose. "I'm slightly occupied right now." I say, jerking a thumb back at Steph.

"Aww…don't be such a wet blanket. She can take care of herself for the night."

Apparently, this guy isn't going to take "no" for an answer.

"Come on baby, we can have some fun!"

"Sorry, not interested." I say, and turn around. Then I feel the hand on my boob. If he's done talking, then so am I.

I turn and deck the angel.

It's a little known Guardian Angel fact that our charges can feel the damage that we take. This explains the random aches that people get from time to time. Creepy Angel's charge obviously felt my punch, as he turns and decks the guy next to him, starting one hell of a bar fight.

Damn, I don't think Officer Angua can cause this much mayhem when it's her time of the month.

With the rest of the males in the room…occupied, I'm free to turn my attention back to Steph and Cardones.

Cardones, not wanting to miss a good fight moves away from Steph to join in the fray.

No, NO, **BAD**! If he gets away, then we have to do this again. Not gonna happen.

Steph's thinking a bit faster than I am in this case, and breaks her mostly-full beer bottle over his head. "I just wanted the pleasure of doing that myself!"

Tank, Ranger and a big, hulking RangeMan that I've never seen before materialize in front of us, Guardians in tow. Now they show up. Where were they when I was being hit on by every guy in this place?

"Sera, what the hell did you do!" Alejandro exclaimed.

"It's not my fault!"

"The hell it isn't!"

I look around and grin. "Oops."

As Tank and the random RangeMan haul Cardones to his feet, cuffs in place, Ranger looks at Steph and shakes his head.

"Babe."


End file.
